


Satisfaction

by Chichirinoda



Category: Shin Megami Tensei: Strange Journey
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-13
Updated: 2010-07-13
Packaged: 2017-10-14 07:50:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/147030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chichirinoda/pseuds/Chichirinoda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another demon's gotten into the Red Sprite, and guess who has to deal with it - of course the one who has to do all the side quests to get a perfect completion rating!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Satisfaction

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**kink_bingo**](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) for the prompt "Bloodplay".
> 
> Mild spoilers for a few of the optional missions in the first half of the game, and blink-you-miss-it plot spoilers for the Carinna area.
> 
> Also, just because I can, here's a visual reference of the demon in the story under the cut.

"There's something weird in the bathroom again, man," Dent had said earnestly. "People keep saying that they hear weird sounds, moaning and banging. Can you check it out?"

Of course I'd agreed - what else could I do? I was apparently the Sprite's handyman, the go-to guy who could handle whatever weird request came my way.

But even as I did so I felt a sense of foreboding - probably because of what I'd found the last time I was asked to check out a mysterious probably-demon in the bathroom. That demon had given me nightmares, and even though I took who knew how many showers, when I went out later, I was _sure_ I could still smell it in the enclosed helmet of my Demonica.

But security had been beefed up considerably since then. Surely another demon couldn't have snuck into the ship.

The area near the bathroom had cleared out, no one wanting to stick around what with the strange sounds emanating from inside. The truth was, I no longer feared demons much, used to dealing with them either by summoning them to fight or by conversing with them at length in the Schwartzvelt. But most of the non-combatants were too terrified to come near, and I couldn't blame them.

Whatever sounds had been coming from the bathroom had apparently ceased, and all was silent now. I held my gun tightly in one hand as I eased the door open, looking cautiously down the row of stalls.

It wasn't hard for me to see what I had come for -there was a huddled figure laying half in and half out of the very last stall, sprawled over the floor with his face down. As I looked, the figure shifted and gave a soft groan.

"Shit," I whispered and moved quickly into the bathroom, the door banging shut behind me. I moved quickly to the figure's side and holstered my gun so I could turn him over, wondering with a flutter in my stomach what I'd see.

It was Anthony. The man groaned again and his eyes fluttered open and fixed on my face, widening slightly. "No...no, get out! Quick!" he moaned, clutching at my arm weakly.

"What happened?" I asked, relieved that he seemed to be all right and not understanding his urgency.

The eyes closed again, Anthony's face constricting with remembered horrors. "I...I thought it was... a chick. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Ah, have you come to parlay with me once more?"

The new voice was musical and cultured, and quite familiar. I looked up, heart pounding as adrenaline raced through my veins, and saw a demon sitting on the toilet in the last stall, his legs crossed and perched as regally as if it were a literal throne.

Cu Chulainn's long black hair flowed around his shoulders, and the demon's features were almost feminine delicate, though the high cheekbones and nose were strong enough. Though he wore armour, the tunic he wore looked a bit like a skirt peeking below the breast plate, and leggings were in fashion anyway.

I could see why Anthony might have made the mistake. Especially given how clueless he generally was.

Moving slowly, I straightened, letting Anthony's head fall with a lot less care than I might have used under different circumstances. It impacted with the tiles with a slight thud. I hoped maybe the headache would remind him not to throw himself at every demon he saw, but honestly I doubted anything would really get through that thick skull.

Either way, I had a more important problem right now, and I wasn't too worried about Anthony.

"Cu Chulainn, I'm sorry if you've been, er, inconvenienced," I said, as politely as I could manage. "Can I escort you back to your residence?" At least, I thought it was his residence, in Carinna. Considering how much trouble I'd had finding him the first time, he could live anywhere.

The demon flicked one long-fingered hand at me and smiled. "You are always polite," he said, and rose to his feet with an elegance that I envied. "But this is a very interesting place, and I was invited in most graciously. Though the lout did try to take liberties with me, and I was forced to correct him."

Cu Chulainn nudged Anthony ungently with one boot, then stepped over the unconscious man. I backed up despite my best intentions as the demon approached me. It was as though I could feel a palpable difference in the demon's presence when I had no protective shielding of machinery and environmental controls between myself and him.

It was fucking terrifying.

The demon touched my cheek, stroking the skin, and made what felt like every hair on my body stand on end. My back hit the row of sinks and I stopped abruptly, wondering how I'd gotten there so fast.

"It was a shame," Cu Chulainn purred. "That he passed out so quickly once I took offence. I feel bereft and unsatisfied."

Okay, I had to do something before this got really out of hand. "Uh, I really do apologize for his rudeness," I stammered, trying to match the demon's politeness.

Cu Chulainn laughed, the sound clear as a bell. "I won't hold the rudeness of one human against another," he said merrily. "You have impressed me before, and if I wouldn't hold you fully responsible for the sins of your race, I wouldn't hold you responsible for the sins of your idiot friend."

A knee slid between my legs and my breath hitched. "However," Cu Chulainn murmured, his head lowering to press light kisses to my throat that sent shivers chasing each other up and down my spine. Dear lord, that felt good. Why did it feel so good?

"I don't intend to leave until I receive some satisfaction from _someone_..."

"Oh god..." I groaned, tilting my head back a little without meaning to.

The strength of the demon was palpable as he gripped my arms. Though Cu Chulainn seemed more human than many of the demons I'd met, the cat-slitted eyes and the otherworldly pallor of his skin put the lie to any thought that I might have had that he was merely human. Not to mention the mouth full of sharp teeth.

Cu Chulainn laughed again, a little more menacingly. "You call to the heavens now? I'd rather you call _my_ name, little human." As he spoke, he removed his gloves, one finger at a time, and let them fall to the floor.

Oh. Shit.

I felt a scrape down the front of my chest. Cu Chulainn's fingernails were sharp, sharp as claws, and the skin under my thin shirt parted as easily as the fabric, blood beginning to well up from the slashes.

The cuts burned. I murmured a soft oath and tried to twist away, to get out from between the demon's insistent push and the unyielding surface of the sink, but Cu Chulainn held me fast. "Where are you going?" the demon growled.

"I...I want to help you," I gasped desperately. My bad feeling was getting worse with every passing moment. I might have been getting used to demons, but they were still _demons_ , and I was in the midst of being forcibly reminded of that. "Please, don't kill me."

Cu Chulainn scoffed and drew a finger up the edges of the cut, making it flare again with pain. He touched it to his lips, licking off the blood. "I won't kill you," he said in what was probably intended to be a reassuring tone, but wasn't. "I like you very much. That was just a little punishment for invoking the heavens when we're supposed to be getting along."

"I didn't mean to," I assured the demon hastily. "It wasn't a prayer, just...meaningless words." And it was true. I hadn't been to Sunday school in ages, and while I was pretty impressed by the angel we'd met, I still wasn't sure about God.

"Very good, then." Cu Chulainn smiled broadly and leaned forward.

His kiss tasted of cherries and the sharp tang of blood. I gasped as a long tongue thrust itself forcibly into my mouth. Cu Chulainn pressed me even more firmly against the sinks, thigh rubbing between my legs and fingers scraping furrows in my skin. My shirt was in ribbons, but the pleasurable sensations made a sweet counterpoint to the sting of the cuts.

He drew back while I struggled to catch my breath, dizzy and a little overwhelmed. Lazy fingers drew over the unmarred parts of my skin and I looked down to see that he was drawing intricate, swirling patterns in my own blood.

"I do like you," Cu Chulainn purred. "So eager to please, so willing to throw your lot in with us now that you're here in this world." He leaned closer. "I could offer you a place with me, dear human." His hand dropped down, cupping my groin and rubbing, and I gave a helpless groan. "The pleasures I could give you...such delight we could have together, for as long as you live you would want for nothing."

I hoped that what he meant by that involved me dying of natural causes. I was _pretty_ sure that was what he meant.

I somehow convinced my hands to unclench from the edge of the sink, and I raised them, pressing my palms to the smooth surface of his breastplate. I'd thought it was painted metal, but it felt like porcelain, smooth and cool to the touch. I had intended to try to push him away, but I found myself just resting my hands there.

"I'm sorry, it's a tempting offer," I said, struggling to stop my voice from shaking. "But I do need to get home as soon as possible."

I held my breath as he looked at me, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as he regarded me. "Pity," he murmured finally. "But no reason why we can't enjoy ourselves before I leave this interesting metal box of yours, don't you agree?"

I didn't have much choice. I knew that. But it wasn't too difficult to smile awkwardly as I nodded my agreement. Less difficult than it should have been.

He smiled and bent his head, tearing the rags of my shirt away from my body completely and discarding them on the floor. "So obedient," he purred, and I flushed.

His tongue rasped over my chest, licking up the blood that dripped from the scores he'd made with his fingernails. I squirmed, gasping, and he lifted me up with ease to sit on the counter between two of the sinks. Finally I reached for him, my fingers searching in vain for the catches on his armour until he caught my wrists and forced them high and behind me, pressing them against the cool glass of the mirror behind me.

"Cu Chulainn," I protested, the word breathless. "Please--"

"Now that's more like it," he purred, lips teasing a nipple as he spoke. "Yes, call to me, my dear. Call my name as you writhe in the ecstasy I bring you."

 _God..._ The word echoed in my mind again, but I bit down on the urge to say it. This was crazy. I was in trouble, wasn't I?

I was pretty sure that I was in trouble, no matter how this turned out.

But that thought was quickly subsumed by sensation, as Cu Chulainn gave my pants the same treatment of my shirt. I groaned a wordless protest as he sliced the fabric to ribbons, scoring my thighs and knees. Blood ran in small rivulets down my legs to drip on the floor in tiny spatters, and soon the rags were gone completely.

There was nothing I could do. I struggled - or perhaps _writhed_ was the more honest word - but with a single hand he easily held me still with my arms pinned. His free hand painted more patterns over my skin, covering nearly every inch with whorls and alien characters.

"What...what are you doing?" I asked, suddenly scared as the thought occurred to me that he might be casting some kind of spell on me.

He smiled, a cat's smile that showed pointed teeth. "No need to be frightened, my dear plaything. I just want all to know whom you belong to."

"I'm going home," I protested, beginning to struggle in earnest.

His hand covered my mouth and he let out a low, shushing hiss between his teeth. I panicked for a moment, but he held very still as I struggled against a hold that I couldn't break. Finally I subsided, panting, and he smiled in a rather approving manner.

"Of course you are," he said, finally removing his hand from my mouth. He leaned in and licked away the spots of blood that his fingertips had left on my cheek. "But not yet. And until that time, I wouldn't want any of my rivals to think they may molest you without reprisal. Now, close your eyes and have no fear. I'm nearly done."

I wasn't quite sure which sense of 'molest' he meant, but I figured either way there might be an upside to this. Could this...whatever he was doing, actually stop other demons from attacking me? If so, maybe it was worthwhile letting him finish.

Not that I had a choice.

I drew in a shuddering breath, still trembling after the panic attack, my heart still pounding uncomfortably in my chest. Slowly, I closed my eyes, and abruptly the touch of his fingers seemed to come into sharp focus.

The fingers slid lightly over my skin, up over one hip and up my back. Every few seconds he would lift and swipe his fingers along one of the cuts in my thighs or stomach, setting the cut ablaze with pain again, but the pain was only a brief flare that fell quickly to a dull throb, easy to ignore. He was deft and quick, and soon completed an intricate pattern over my shoulders and around my throat, leaving only my face untouched by the gore.

"Perfect," he purred. "And now the finishing touches."

He kissed me again, and I submitted to the insistent push of his mouth with a groan. His tongue tasted even more strongly of blood now, but I was distracted from the metallic flavour as he wrapped his hand around my cock and began to stroke expertly.

Incoherent, pleading noises issued from my mouth, muffled by his lips. He hummed and stroked faster, rewarding me for my eagerness with more pleasure. I could see the temptation he offered, and struggled against it. How bad would it be to live the rest of my life with a man - demon or not - who could make me feel this way with such ease?

The sensations spiralled together in me, and I writhed and bucked against his weight. My skin seemed to _burn_ as my arousal heightened, and my pleading groans turned to cries and yells of mingled pleasure and pain. I realized that my skin really was burning, flaring hot as if on fire, and I screamed, but the scream of pain was lost in my scream of pleasure as my orgasm whited out my brain and sent me plunging into unconsciousness.

I remember soft lips and gentle hands after that, moving me. Cu Chulainn whispered something in my ear - a promise, maybe, or perhaps just his assurance that I would come to him again. I think I agreed. My memory is pretty fuzzy.

I woke later on the floor of the bathroom, when Anthony shook my shoulder violently. "Are you okay? Did it hurt you?" he asked worriedly, peering down at me.

I wondered how he could even ask, considering my skin probably looked like he'd played tic-tac-toe, and then went Van Gogh on the remaining surfaces with my own blood. But then I looked down at myself and saw nothing. Not a scar or a fleck of blood remained on my skin.

But I could still feel the patterns he drew, burning dully and not unpleasantly, like a brand just under the skin.

Since then some of the demons have been treating me a little differently. Some of them give me a wide berth. Others give me gifts to pass on to Cu Chulainn...which I eventually started doing, when it became a bit too much to haul around and people started asking questions.

Zelenin isn't speaking to me. I don't think she even knows why, but I do.

Still, it's not a bad deal. The perks - which I get to experience whenever I visit Cu Chulainn's little bower - are more than worth the odd feeling that things will never be quite the same, even if we do ever get out of here.


End file.
